


Four Sevens

by sirconnie



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Black Character(s), Gen, Growing Up, Mid-Canon, Mild Sexual Content, N7 Day, Paragon Commander Shepard, Pre-Series, Spacer (Mass Effect), War Hero (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:12:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8498359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirconnie/pseuds/sirconnie
Summary: A brief overview of the life of Philomena "Lo" Shepard in four sets of seven. From childhood, to adolescence, to the beginnings of late adulthood. She's a mess.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i rushed this!!! im sorry!! im pretty proud of it but it's messy and not nearly as long as i wanted. i was gonna expand on age 28 and write about the events of ME1, but i had no time. happy N7 day!

Mena Shepard is seven and she’s sick all the time. Not as sick as when she was five, but still. Her head is heavy and her whole body feels hot for no reason. She can’t get out of bed some days and she’s always really, really tired. She has to go see a lot of different doctors, but they don’t know what’s wrong. Ma and Mommy say it’s not a big deal, but she’s heard Mommy talking to gramma on the phone when Mommy thinks she’s asleep. She can’t understand all of it, and she’s whispering, but sometimes Mommy cries. Mommy says her name a lot and cries.

Carter’s never sick and Mena doesn’t get it. He’s small like her, they’ve been the same kind of small since Mommies brought him home, she thinks. They eat the same things and live in the same house. They used to sleep in the same room and talk and laugh too loud until Ma comes in the room and uses the Scary Voice. But then Mena fainted on her way to the bathroom one night and Mommies said that Mena has to sleep with them from now on. Carter was real jealous, but then he just got sad and that made Mena sad. Now nobody laughs too loud.

Mena’s too sick to go to school, but Carter has been going for a while. They cried so much on the first day when Ma picked him up and put him in the car and Mommy held Mena real tight. Mena’s head hurt so bad, but she couldn’t stop crying when Ma drove away with Carter. Mommy said that he’d come back soon, and he did, but then it kept happening, almost every day. Mena would be quiet and sick all day until Carter came home and jumped on her bed and she was okay again. And then he’d leave and she’d feel sicker.

It was okay sometimes. Some days Carter didn’t have to go to school or he pretended to be sick so he could stay home (Mena coached him on how to do it). Sometimes her cousin, Kiera, would come over and tell her about Big Kid Things like puberty and something called midterm exams.

“Ninth grade is really weird,” Kiera says, braiding Mena’s hair while she sits between her legs. “You’re gonna hate it.”

“I think I’ll be too sick to go,” Mena says, hugging her knees. Kiera makes a noise and Mena tilts her head back to look at her.

“I bet you’re gonna be perfectly fine,” she says in a grown up voice. The voice she uses when she means business. “You’re gonna get better and you’ll go to high school and hate it.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Kiera smiles really big and pinches Mena’s feverish cheeks. “Now stop moving around. You made me mess up.”

When Kiera can’t come over, Mena is alone with Ma or Mommy, never both. They have to work a lot and sometimes it’s only one of them for days. Mena knows they’re in the Alliance and that’s really important, but she misses one when she’s not around. Too much of either isn’t very fun. Mommy fusses and Ma has a lot of rules. Mena likes it when they’re together, it’s quieter.

She likes it more when Carter’s home. Everything’s better if he’s there. He really likes school, but he stays with her all day when he gets back. He tells her everything that happened and about people Mena doesn’t know. He laughs about stuff Mena doesn’t get and it makes her sad. Then he shares the snacks he got at the class Halloween party and she’s less sad. Until Mommy comes in and takes away the stuff she can’t eat.

Carter tells her about a field trip the school is having to a theme park. Mena doesn’t know what a theme park is, but Carter shows her pictures and he’s so excited that she gets excited, too. He says he asked the teacher if she could come and that it’s okay if she has their parents’ permission. They run to Mommies and ask, but they don’t say anything for a while. Mena and Carter beg, _please, please, please,_ and Mommies say they’ll think about it, and that’s not a yes, but it’s not a no.

“Are you sure you can handle it, Mena?” Mommy asks the next day, her face sad like it is when she calls gramma. “What if you feel too sick?”

“I won’t! I feel good, I promise,” Mena says real fast, because she can’t talk fast when she feels sick. She really does feel good and hops up and down in place to prove it until Mommy tells her to settle down.

“What if she doesn’t get sick until next week?” Carter says. “If she’s okay when the field trip comes, can she go?” Mena looks up at Mommies and bites her lip, begging with her eyes. Mommies look at each other for a long time.

“If we go with her,” Ma says slowly, “we won’t worry so much.”

“Maybe, but _can_ we—“

“Ms. Lorraine says parents can come!” Carter says in a loud voice, getting Mena excited, too. “There’s lotsa parents coming! Even Lisa’s dads!”

“Well, if _they_ can manage to make it, we _have_ to go,” Ma says and Mommy laughs. Mena leans forward and looks at their faces, but she can’t tell if it’s okay. Mommies look at her and sigh real big.

“Okay, you can go,” Mommy says and Mena and Carter yell and jump up and down. Mommy laughs, but Ma tells them to ‘quiet down’ and ‘there’s a lot of other people on this ship’.

“But you have to feel okay until then,” Ma says. “If you get sick from now until the field trip, we’ll have to think about it again.” Mena nods her head hard, hard enough to hurt a little, so she stops. She won’t get sick this time, she’ll drink a lot of orange juice and sleep a lot and she’ll be fine. She’ll be healthy and get to go on the trip with Carter! It’s gonna be so cool!

It’s two days before the trip and she’s starting to feel it. She’s hot and cold, hot and cold, and her head feels like it’s gonna blow up. She ignores it and tries really hard to act healthy. She’ll be as sick as she wants when the trip is over, but right now she needs to be okay.

She’s walking to the living room when everything feels too small, too close. Her chest feels funny, like something is tickling it from the inside and it’s too hot, way too hot. She can’t walk straight and she doesn’t know what Mommy is saying to her. Is that Mommy? Why is it so dark? She’s trying to ask what’s going on but her mouth isn’t working right. Nothing is working right, it’s too hot, she can’t see—

.

.

.

Mena wakes up in a bed. She doesn’t know where she is. She feels weird and there’s something on her face, covering her nose and mouth. She blinks once, twice, five times, but she can’t really see. Are the lights off? But it’s not bed time yet.

“Mena?” Is that Ma? She sounds really weird. But where is she? Mena turns to the right and feels a big, warm hand on her forehead. Then she feels kisses and hears Ma’s weird voice again, really close while she’s kissing all over her face. “Oh my god, Mena, oh, baby.”

“Mmf,” is all Mena can say because her mouth feels weird and the thing on her face is making it hard. She feels something on her left and hears a sniff she’s heard before. Something snuggles up next to her and she feels an arm go around her shoulders tight. She turns, but she can’t see anything. She’s looking around and fidgeting, but it’s too dark to tell what’s going on.

“Carter, sweetie, not so rough,” another person says. Mommy? She looks for her, but it’s still hard. Carter lets her go a little and she hears him sniff again and hiccup like he always does when he’s been crying. Why was he crying? Is he okay? She wants to see his face, but it’s too _dark_ , why won’t anyone turn the lights on?

It’s later when they tell her what happened. The fever was too big and her body couldn’t take it. Mommy talks to someone who sounds like a doctor. They sound like every other doctor Mena’s ever heard, quiet and tired. They say a really big word that Mena doesn’t understand. Carter asks what it is and holds Mena’s hand really hard.

Mommy takes a long time to answer. “It’s a type of stroke. Mena’s hurt and she’s gonna be at the hospital for a while.”

Carter doesn’t take that well. He’s crying and hugging her and she’s too tired to do anything back. She doesn’t really feel anything when Mommy talks so quietly to her and tells her she’s even sicker now. Not even when Mommy says she’s blind. Her brain feels so slow. She doesn’t understand.

Mommies leave Carter and her alone for a while. She starts feeling less slow and she can almost think straight. She thinks he’s lying down next to her and he’s not crying anymore. She feels his hands gripping onto her sleeve (is she wearing paper? Where did her clothes go?) and he’s still sniffing a little.

“I’m sorry I got sicker,” Mena whispers. She feels him shake his head, the top of his hair tickling her cheek.

“Just feel better,” he says in a quiet voice she’s never heard before. He nose is stuffy and she feels him wipe it on her shirt. “There’s another field trip next year. We can go then.”

“You’re not gonna go on Friday?”

“No.”

“But—“

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Not tired.”

“I’m tired.”

“Sleep.”

“You sleep, too.”

“Okay. I’ll get better, Carter.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh my god. Carter, oh my god.”

“What?”

“She’s back, Carter, she’s back!”

“Oh, lord.”

Lo Shepard is fourteen and she’s staring at the most beautiful girl in the world. She’s watching her eat lunch alone from across the cafeteria and she’s just…wow.

Carter thinks it’s creepy. “Just go over there and talk to her.”

Lo gives him a look. “Right, because I can just _do_ that. It’s not like I’ve been homeschooled up until last year or anything.”

“Excuses. You can do it, just walk right up to her and say hi.”

“You demand the impossible.”

“Do you even know her name?”

“No. Don’t _you?_ ”

“Why would _I_ know?” She shrugs and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t know _everybody_ here. It’s a big school.”

“You know practically everybody. Go find out her name for me?” Lo asks, batting her eyes at him in a way that makes him shudder. He’s been unnerved by her eyes ever since the operation a couple years back. Their moms finally got enough money to get her a transplant and she now sports two perfectly functional blue peepers that Carter’s never really liked. Honestly, she’s not a fan of them either, but at least she can see now. She’d have much preferred brown eyes, but apparently they’re a _lot_ more expensive. She’ll take what she can get, even if she does feel like a creepy stranger is looking back at her in the mirror.

So, Carter investigates, complaining the whole time. It’s days later when they’re being picked up by Kiera after school that she asks him for the fiftieth time if he’s made any progress, only for him to give her the same answer.

“Nothing yet. Oh, relax,” he adds when she groans dramatically. “She’s new and she doesn’t really talk to anyone. I’m doing what I can.”

“Well, do more!”

“Or you could _talk_ to her? Have I suggested that yet?”

“I hate you so much.”

“Alright, you two, what’s the deal?” Kiera asks from the driver’s seat. “Sit right, Lolo, you’re gonna get me a ticket.”

Lo turns back from her position twisting around in her seat to glare at her brother and pouts. “Kiera, how do you talk to pretty girls?”

“I dunno. I just do.”

“See?” Carter says, leaning over to smile smugly at her. “It’s easy. You just go over there and talk.”

“It’s _not_ , though,” Lo insists, covering her face with her hands. Her head hurts, but not unbearably. She feels the barest hints of static coming off her fingers and sits on her hands. “She’s so pretty and I’m so weird, what if I creep her out?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re not that bad,” Kiera says, giving her a sidelong smile.

“I’m still not used to people.”

“You’ll get there. Just look this girl in the eye and say,” Kiera makes her voice low and sultry. “Hey, baby. Wanna go…I dunno, get a milkshake? What do you kids do these days?”

“We lean more towards movies,” Carter says helpfully.

“Right, that. Say that.”

Lo groans again and slouches in her seat, her head pounding. Kiera makes a sympathetic noise and takes a hand off the wheel to ruffle her hair, making it stick up.

“Cheer up, kiddo. How ‘bout I buy you both some milkshakes when we’re done at Istha’s?”

“Hell yeah,” Carter whoops from the backseat and Lo perks up a little. “How long are you on leave?”

“I’m going back tomorrow. Aw, don’t give me that,” Kiera adds when Lo and Carter make identical noises of disappointment. “I get too much leave anyhow. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“How are you feeling, by the way?” she asks, facing Lo more fully when they’re at a red light. “Anything go blue?”

Lo shakes her head. “No blue today. Just headaches.”

“You sure?” Carter asks, leaning towards her again and straining against his seatbelt.

“I’m sure. I’ll feel better when we leave Istha’s.” He nods, but doesn’t look overly convinced. He’d been especially attentive ever since last year. She hadn’t had a bad fever since she was eleven and she’d finally gotten to go to school once she could see again. She’d wanted to go even before then, but her moms wouldn’t have it. Once the surgery was done, however, she was free to go to school with Carter and she’d been ecstatic. She changed her name from Mena to Lo (because Philomena is a ridiculous name and her mothers should be ashamed) and decided to be a brand new person, a person who goes to _school_ where there’s _people_.

Then she was thirteen and she fainted on the way out of school with a fever higher than it’s been in years and her whole body glowing blue. She doesn’t know what happened then, as she was going in and out of consciousness at the time, but she’d been told by Kiera that Carter dragged her into a supply closet before anyone could see. They both knew about biotic kids being taken away to Jump Zero indefinitely and Carter was terrified. He still doesn’t like to talk about it. Both their phones were shorted out by Lo’s random biotic pulses, but he’d found one in a lost and found box nearby and called Kiera, since both their moms were on duty. Kiera showed up and taken them out of the school discreetly before driving them to a friend of hers, an Asari named Istha, who’d correctly gathered that Lo was definitely a biotic and had built up too much power. The sickness from her childhood was likely from early development of her powers that came out in the form of high fevers and headaches.

And so, for the past year Lo would come to Istha’s house every other week and release the excess biotic energy that’s been piling up. She wishes there was a way to filter the powers out somehow, but to do that, she’d have to ask a professional and risk being taken away like those other kids she’s heard about. She’d rather go through this than be turned into a test subject.

When it’s over and she feels prickly and achey, Istha gives her a sandwich and a drink. The drain from releasing so much biotic energy at once is massive and she wolfs down the food. She drinks her milkshake so quickly later, Kiera orders her a burger and fries, and she’s not even full. Kiera teases her and Carter laughs along, even if Lo does catch him looking at her warily more than once. This has been especially hard on him, and he’s been paying an annoying amount of attention ever since the fainting incident. Her moms aren’t much better – they’d been dismayed when Kiera told them what happened – but it’s fine. It’s not like being handled with kid gloves is a new thing for her.

.

.

.

The next week, Carter plops down onto his seat next to her in Astronomy class, eyes downcast.

“Her name’s Astoria Stacker. She’s a year older than us, but she’s been held back because she missed a year,” he says to Lo’s rapt attention.

“Astoria? Wow,” Lo says, a dreamy look on her face. “That’s a pretty name. What else you got?”

He sighs. “I don’t wanna tell you.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s…a lot.”

Lo leans toward him. “Tell me!” He frowns and looks away.

“She’s from Mindoir,” he says softly, even if he wouldn’t be heard in the noisy classroom. “She was there when it happened.”

Lo’s eyes widen. “Jesus.”

“I know.”

They’d heard about Mindoir from their moms. Ma had been one of the Alliance soldiers sent to investigate the attack on the colony and she’d been depressed for days after. Military work takes it out of their moms, but it’d been rare to see her so upset. She’d told them very little about what happened and the news wouldn’t report any details, but they knew there was one survivor. They’d been underage, so their name or face wasn’t shown and Ma couldn’t tell them anything, but Lo had always wondered where they were and how they must be feeling. She couldn’t even imagine losing everything like that.

And now she finds out that the Mindoir Survivor goes to her school. She looks down at her desk, feeling like a dick – this girl has been carrying who knows what kind of pain, and Lo’s been staring at her like a weirdo.

“See, _this_ is why I didn’t wanna tell you,” Carter says. “You’re feeling all sorry for her now, aren’t you?”

“Well, I mean…”

“Don’t. It doesn’t help.” Lo sighs and nods. “Good. Fix your face before you talk to her, she’ll get mad if she knows you’re feeling bad for her.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she told me,” he says easily.

Lo gawks at him. “You _talked_ to her?”

He gives her an odd look. “Yeah? How do you think I knew she was from Mindoir?”

“She just told you?”

“Pretty much. I asked where she was from and she just said it. I must’ve had a look on my face ‘cause she gave me a whole speech about ‘useless pity’ and how she doesn’t need it.” He laughs. “I couldn’t even say anything, I just stood there and got told. She’s an interesting girl.”

“Huh.” Lo blinks and twirls her pen in her hand. “Okay, so, no pity. I’ll work on that.”

The teacher finally strolls in and Carter starts rifling through his bag for his notebook. “As you should. She’s pretty easy to talk to, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Lo narrows her eyes at him. “Is she, now?”

“What?”

“Did you talk to her for a long time?”

“I wouldn’t say a _long_ time.”

“How long?”

“I dunno. Twenty minutes? Wait, wait.” He stops looking through his bag and turns to raise an eyebrow at her. “What are you implying?”

“You said she was interesting.”

“Oh, god, Lo, come on,” he says with an annoyed huff. “I’m not gonna go after somebody you’re into.”

“You’ve done it before!”

“I didn’t know you liked Malik!”

“I talked about him all the time!”

“You talk about Blasto all the time, should I assume you’ve got a crush on _him_ , too?” Lo frowns at him and he rolls his eyes again. “Besides, he was the worst. You deserve better than that.”

“Does that thought help sleep at night, you hussy?”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna steal her away, alright? Don’t worry.”

Lo gives him another suspicious look and faces forward as the teacher starts the lesson. They’re fifteen minutes into the class when a folded piece of paper slides onto Lo’s desk. She glances at Carter, but he’s looking at the front of the class, seeming very engrossed in the lecture on the multiwavelength universe. Lo opens up the note and finds his slanted handwriting:

_And besides, I think I’ve been raised by our mothers well enough to know a lesbian when I see one. You’re good._

 

* * *

 

Lo Shepard is twenty-one and she shouldn’t be alive. She opens her grubby eyes only to squeeze them shut again at the brightness. She blinks experimentally and gradually finds her vision again. She’s on her back and staring at a white ceiling. Last thing she remembers is being in the dirt, looking up at a horrifying, furious face, and scrabbling at the hands wrapped around her neck.

Her throat hurts. She coughs and that makes it worse. There’s movement to her left and she can only turn her head a fraction towards it, there’s something around her neck keeping her from moving right.

“Lo!” Carter breathes, looking down at her with wide, shining eyes. He looks terrible. His hair is tied back in a haphazard bun and his eye bags have eye bags. How long has he been here? Where _is_ here? Lo tries to speak, but nothing comes out and all she gets is an awful, tearing pain in her throat.

“No, no, don’t talk,” he says, hands scrambling before landing her shoulder carefully. “Your throat is bad. Really bad, you were—you were hurt and you can’t talk right now.” She notices his hesitation and how his eyes flick to her neck for barely a second before looking away.

She looks around, difficult but doable, and gathers that she’s in a hospital room. She feels heavy with bandages and probably morphine and her eyeballs feel sticky. She looks at Carter again and blinks, hoping he can see the question in her face.

“You were on Elysium,” he says quickly. “There was--the colony got attacked by pirates and, uh…that’s all I really know. You’ve been out of it for a couple of days.”

Elysium. Right, she remembers that. She’d been on shore leave and decided to spend it there. The fact that she’d known that Kiera was stationed there factored heavily into her decision.

Blood, fire, gunshots. Not enough medigel. Too dangerous to drag her. No time, at least one of them has to make it.

Kiera.

Lo falls silent, feeling frozen and numb. Carter searches her face, looking like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. He releases her shoulder and gives her what looks like his best attempt at a smile.

“But, you’re awake! And you’re okay. Had me pretty worried, there.” He grins and reaches into his pocket. “I told Moms I’d call them as soon as you wake up. I’ll be right—"

Lo’s hand shoots out and circles around his wrist as he turns to go. He jumps and looks down at her, eyebrows high on his forehead. She’s making pained, awful wheezing sounds and her heart is hammering in her chest.

“Lo? Lo, hey,” he says, sounding like he’s trying very hard to sound calm and soothing. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m just gonna—”

“ _D_ —” She grits her teeth, her throat burning and feeling like it’s being ripped apart. “ _D-don’t—_ ”

“No, don’t talk!” He shakes his head and closes a hand around hers. She lets out a high, breaking sound and he looks even more stricken. “Lo, please, stop, you're gonna—”

“ _D-don’t leave_ ,” she wheezes, breath and words coming out like fire. She’s crying before she knows it and it’s just making it harder, but she pushes through. “ _Please--don’t leave—_ ”

He’s looking down at her, eyes wide as she grips his wrist hard enough to bruise. She must be hurting him, but she can’t let go, she _can’t_ because then he’ll leave and she can’t be alone, she can’t take it, she needs him here, needs to be around people, needs--

“Okay,” he says, voice soft. “Okay, I’m not leaving.” He pulls his chair back to him with his leg and sits, his hand still on hers. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll be right here.”

Lo stares at him, not sure if she believes it. He looks her in the eye and nods. She slowly, slowly releases her hold on him and he stands to gently return her hand to her side. She keeps her eyes on him the whole time, but he only goes right back to his seat and holds her hand. She doesn’t stop looking at him even when someone shows up, likely having noticed the uptick in heartrate. Carter talks to the Turian nurse, hand still carefully snug around hers, but Lo doesn’t hear what he says. She’s calmer, but still terrified of him leaving, so she doesn’t sleep, even though the nurse just adjusted her IV and she’s starting to feel heavy again.

She watches him, and he’s still there. He looks right back at her evenly and doesn’t move. Her eyes finally slide shut and the last thing she remembers when she falls asleep is the feeling of his thumb stroking her wrist.

.

.

.

Kiera’s funeral is the week after Lo is discharged. She attends with bandages wrapped around her bruised throat and her head hanging low.

Tori’s with her. She’d been attentive and careful since she visited Lo at the hospital, halfway crying before Lo had hugged her. Carter’s sitting at her other side, looking as miserable as expected. He loved Kiera, too. Lo has to try to remember that, even when she feels like her whole world is crumbling.

They’re calling Lo a hero. They’re saying she saved Elysium and that she showed _true bravery_. They’ve sensationalized the story to death and Lo isn’t here for it. Every time they praise her courage she remembers running from the colony. Every time they call her a hero she remembers Kiera taking a bullet to save her.

It’s all bullshit. And it doesn’t matter now.

Kiera’s father, Lo’s uncle, says he doesn’t blame her. She doesn’t believe him. She accepts his hug and kind words even if it makes her want to vomit. Kiera got her brown eyes and dark skin from him. Lo sees her in the way he furrows his brow and scratches the back of his neck. His voice shakes and shatters when he makes his eulogy. She balls her hands into tight fists in her lap and she can’t look at him.

The Alliance has her on indefinite shore leave. She stays at home and sleeps, mostly. Carter and Tori periodically try to coax her out into the world, but she rarely relents. The few times she _does_ go out, she’s almost immediately set upon by reporters who bombard her with questions about Elysium, always about Elysium. They demand answers she can’t give them and she runs, not knowing where she’s going, but desperate to get away.

It infuriates Carter. Even if Lo weren’t his sister, he’d be disgusted as a professional journalist. He’s never asked her about what happened, even if Lo knows his editor would want him to. She never talks about it and he’s accepted that. When his adamant refusal to get a story out of her gets him fired, he barely seems affected.

“The commute was shitty anyway,” he says, shrugging one shoulder while he watches TV. “Trust me, you did me a favor.”

Lo wants to get back to work so badly, it’s killing her. She keeps failing the psychological evaluations, unable to lie her way through them due to the technology picking up on her heartbeat, and she’s grounded until she’s deemed mentally able to serve. She doesn’t care, none of that _matters_ , she’s just sick of being home and she’s sick of being around the same sympathetic faces and careful voices. She’s sick of being tired and empty and she needs a distraction.

She’s called to meet with an officer one day. She introduces herself as Admiral Jane Greer, and Lo isn’t high enough on the military rung to really know who she is. Her office is huge, but she fills it up with her presence. She speaks to Lo with no pity and Lo responds to that immediately, so fucking glad to talk to someone who doesn’t think she’ll fall apart at any moment.

Greer presents her with an opportunity to raise public approval of the Systems Alliance. She asks that Lo attend formal interviews and tell the story of what they’re calling the _Skyllian Blitz_. What’s more, Lo would be featured in posters and publicized as the Hero of Elysium.

Lo reacts to this as well as she’s capable. She’s been through enough military training and was raised better to show her contempt to a superior officer, however, and rejects the offer with every ounce of respect and manners she can muster.

“I understand you’ve been on mandatory shore leave,” Greer says after a long silence.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s a shame. A fine soldier such as yourself shouldn’t be forced to stay in the sidelines.”

“I suppose, ma’am,” Lo says slowly, not sure where this is going.

Greer hums, considering her from the other side of her desk. “What if I could put you back on duty?”

“Ma’am?”

“Suppose I could make it so you’d pass your psych evals. You’d be able to serve again.”

Lo blinks. “How would you…?”

“That’s not important. Just know that I can, if you wanted me to.” She leans forward a bit in her seat, silver eyes gleaming. “Now, what is that worth to you?”

Lo gapes and then fixes her expression to something more appropriate. “I—I don’t know.”

“How badly do you want to serve?”

Lo sets her jaw tight. “More than anything.”

Greer does something very close to a smile, though her lips are so thin it could’ve been a scowl. “Enough to be the public face of the military?”

Lo’s shoulders sag. Of course. There’s no way the admiral would risk her career without some kind of payoff. If Lo accepts this, she’d have to talk about what happened. She’d be the poster child of the Alliance, the Hero of Elysium. Her stomach churns at the thought of having to face it all, having to embrace the one thing she’s been running from since she woke up in the hospital.

But if she says no, she’ll have to sit at home and endure.

Fuck that.

“I’ll do it,” she says in a voice that’s more confident than she feels. Greer definitely smiles now and dismisses her, promising to discuss the details with her soon. Lo salutes and leaves her office with her shoulders aching and her hands shaking. Her breath comes out unsteady and she brings a hand to the mostly healed skin of her throat.

No more enduring.

.

.

.

“When were you going to tell me?” Tori asks, voice hard even as her eyes shine with held back tears. Lo just lifts her arms and drops them wordlessly and she scoffs. “Wow. Right, okay.”

“What did you expect me to do?” Lo snaps, voice somewhat loud in the echoing hallway. “Just sit at home and do nothing?”

“I expected you to _talk_ to me!” Tori almost yells, throwing her arms up. “I didn’t know you even _wanted_ to go back and I _deserve_ to have been told!”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Lo says in an appeasing voice. “You’re right, I should’ve told you.”

“And you’re still gonna go?”

Lo sighs. “Yeah. I’m still gonna go.”

“ _Why?_ ” Tori asks desperately, stepping closer to her. “Why do you wanna go back to the Alliance? Why is this so important to you?”

Lo clenches her fists and doesn’t quite look at her. “It just is. I can’t explain it. I have to go back.” Tori is quiet for a long moment.

“Well, I can’t go back with you,” she breathes.

Lo’s head snaps up. “What?”

“I can’t…” Her voice cracks and she takes a deep breath. “Lo, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“ _This._ All of it.” She gestures between the two of them and the entire ship as a whole. “I can’t— _fuck_ , Lo, I can’t watch you go off to fight and wonder if you’re gonna end up in the hospital again, or worse!”

Lo just shakes her head. She can’t think of anything to say to stop this, stop Tori from doing what she’s about to do.

Tori barrels on, her hand gestures getting bigger and more frantic. “Do you have any idea how I felt when I heard about Elysium? How _terrified_ I was when I’d heard about the pirates and the slavers?” She takes a shaking breath and runs a hand through her coiled hair. “I knew for sure you were dead, I _knew_ it, and it felt like Mindoir all over again.”

Lo’s chest aches and she reaches for her. “Tori—”

“ _No_ , listen to me.” Tori steps away, pointing a shaking finger at her. “I’m not going through that again. I _can’t_.”

Lo drops her hand and finds her voice again. “Are you asking me to choose you over the military?”

Tori presses her lips together and wipes a stray tear away. “No. I’m not gonna make you do that.” She looks up at Lo and her eyes are wet but fierce. “I’m doing it for you. _I’m_ choosing me.”

They both fall into silence and it’s deafening in the empty hallway. Lo can’t speak, can’t really breathe. Tori sniffles and wipes at her face again before reaching into her pocket. She pulls out something silver and clinking and Lo realizes what it is with a jolt.

“You should have these back,” Tori says softly, holding Lo’s dog tags out for her to take. Lo doesn’t move. Tori sighs and steps forward, grabbing Lo’s hand and dropping the dog tags into her palm. Lo stares down at them, feeling the warm metal against her skin. Warm like Tori always is.

Lo looks at her again, at a loss for words. Tori looks at a point somewhere over her shoulder, face tight.

“It’s over,” she mutters. “Goodbye, Lo.” She turns and walks away, every step soft and unhurried. Lo watches her leave and closes her hand over the dog tags. The chain jingling in her hands pushes her into striding after her.

She catches up in seconds and grabs hold of Tori’s soft upper arm, not sure what to say, but desperate to touch her, to keep her. “Tori, please—“

Tori whirls around and throws her arms around Lo’s neck, making her bend down into the hug. She presses her face into Lo’s neck and Lo feels something wet.

“Please,” Tori murmurs, voice breaking and so close to her ear. “ _Please_ be careful.”

Lo barely gets her own arms around her before Tori’s pulling away, leaving a cold, empty space where she once was. She breaks into a run this time and goes through the doors into her home. The doors snap shut and she’s gone. Lo can still feel her tears on her neck.

She takes a step back, another, and another on shaking legs until her back hits a wall and she slides to the ground. She can’t feel anything, not the hard metal floor of the ship or the bite of the too-warm dog tags inside her closed fist. She can’t feel, she can’t think.

She can’t see.

 

* * *

                                                                                    

“Wait, wait.“

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just…” The woman laughs nervously, blushing even with the straps of her dress lowered. “It’s just so wild. I can’t believe I’m doing this with _the_ Commander Shepard!”

Lo laughs. “That’s sweet. We can stop if you want to.”

“No, no, I’m good! Just wanted to let it sink in.” She brings Lo back in and they’re kissing again, her hands grabbing at Lo’s hair and her chest pressed up against Lo’s. Lo runs her hands up and down her legs, rucking up her dress high enough to meet skin. The woman lets out a breathy moan as Lo kisses down her neck, making her way down to her chest and hearing her own name murmured in her ear.

Lo Shepard is twenty-seven and she’s got a model’s nipple in her mouth. She feels a little bad about forgetting her name. It’s something like…Mandy? Mara? There’s definitely an ‘m’ sound in there, somewhere. Whatever. The fact that she’s feeling anything is a surprise in itself.

She’s got Megan lying on top of her, letting out these tiny, cute sounds while she’s got her mouth on her chest and her hand high on her thigh. She’d met her at the bar when Lo was signing autographs for some college kids and they got to talking. Lo doesn’t normally indulge in sex this early in the night – it’s barely eleven – but this one amused her. Plus, she’s barely drunk and doesn’t mind the distraction.

And so, they’re in Mary’s apartment, fooling around in her bed, and Lo’s got a model’s nipple in mouth. All in all, not a bad night.

Lo flips them over deftly, Monique giggling as her back hits the mattress and pushing Lo’s jacket off. She shrugs out of it and kisses her, barely registering Morgan’s hands sliding up under her shirt.

Ah, now it’s starting. She’s shutting down the way she always does when she has sex. It’s been happening near-constantly for years now. She’d been hoping she’d grow out of it, maybe have enough sex that it’s not an issue, but no dice. She’s starting to feel separate from her body, like this is a dream or a video game where she’s controlling where her hands and mouth go without really being connected to them.

Oh, well, no helping it now. Hopefully she’ll get a decent orgasm by the end of it. And old Mindy over here will get a story to tell her friends. It’s a win-win. She feels Marian grind up against her and thinks about collecting on that win when something lets out a _ping!_ sound.

She stops, thinking she imagined it, when it happens again. _Ping! Ping!_ Lo turns away from Madison’s devouring kiss and pulls up her omnitool to see—yep, there’s a message. She glances at the sender’s name and abruptly sits up.

“Hang on a sec,” she mutters as she settles back on her haunches and out of Melanie’s reach. She lets out a whine, but Lo ignores it and opens the message:

**[Anderson]: Need to talk to you. My place in 1hr?**

That’s different. Usually he just _tells_ her to be somewhere. If he’s asking, then this must be important. She hears rustling and looks up to see Maggie sitting up and pulling at the hem of her shirt.

“Everything okay?” she asks, lips kiss-flushed and chest heaving. Lo gives her a once over and does the math in her head – the time it takes to engage in coitus to completion along with the time it’ll take to get to Anderson’s apartment from here – before typing a quick reply.

“Yep, I’m good.” Lo sends the message and puts the omnitool away. “I’ve gotta go to meet up with someone in about twenty minutes.”

Maya’s face falls. “Oh, no.”

“S’okay, that’s plenty of time.” Lo presses a deep, slow kiss against Misty’s lips until she relaxes and lies back down, Lo hovering over her. She pulls back slowly and considers her for a moment. “How about I go down on you and we call it a day?”

Molly’s face lights up at that. “Wait, but what about you?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“But didn’t you say you only had twenty minutes?”

Lo laughs, because Monica’s just being silly now. “I’m not gonna need all of it, trust me. So, can I go ahead and…?” She nods her head vigorously and Lo crawls down her body, kissing at her round stomach on the way down. She pushes her dress up and gets right to it, putting her mouth, fingers, and a healthy dose of precise biotics to work.

She’s out and on her way to Anderson’s with time to spare.

.

.

.

“You’re late.”

“Bull _shit_ , I’m five minutes early.”

“N7 operatives are always half an hour early. Get used to being obnoxiously punctual,” Anderson says, a tiny smirk ruining his firm tone. Lo huffs out a laugh and sits on the bar stool across from him.

“So, what’s up? What do you need to talk about?” She swivels on the seat and watches as he walks out to the kitchen. When he returns, he’s holding a somewhat oversized cupcake with a mountain of white icing sitting on top of it. Lo stares at it and then back at him, not getting it. He procures a candle from his pocket and sticks it precariously into the very top of the cupcake. He pulls out a zippo and promptly lights it.

“Happy birthday,” he says gruffly, his stoic expression almost breaking when she just looks at him, uncomprehending. She looks between the cupcake and him again and pulls out her omnitool to check.

**11:58PM April, 10, 2183**

**11:59PM April, 10, 2183**

**12:00AM April 11, 2183**

She puts the ‘tool away and drops her arm slowly. “Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“I forgot.”

“Of course you did. Now, blow out the candle and eat your cupcake, damn it.” Lo pulls it toward herself, but doesn’t move to do either.

It’s not like her to forget. Normally, she pays very careful attention to how old she is. This time, though, it slipped her mind. It doesn’t make sense that of all birthdays, it’s this one that she almost let fly by without acknowledgment.

Twenty-eight. That’s how old Kiera was when she died. The oldest she ever got to be. She’d seemed so big and mature back then, so much like a grown up. It’s weird to know they’re the same age. Disturbing.

“Hey.” Anderson’s voice breaks into her thoughts and she finds him looking at her, concern lining his features. Her mouth twitches into a smile after some effort and she blows out the candle.

“Aw, sir, you shouldn’t have,” she teases. She pokes into the frosting and licks it off her finger. She grimaces at the sour taste. “Oh, ew. What is this, lemon?”

“Lime. It was the only thing they had this late,” Anderson answers, even if he’s still eyeing her carefully. She grins and takes a little bite to make a disgusted face at, if only to make him laugh. It works and she relaxes, hoping she’s successfully pushed her momentary gloom under the rug for at least the moment.

She hates it when he worries. He’s always made it his business to make sure she’s functioning and she always has to bend over backwards to convince him that she is, more or less. Ever since she cut off ties with that snake, Admiral Greer, he’s been her primary superior officer/manager/babysitter and he’s been at her side for the past six years.

She hadn’t wanted to work with him at first. She knew next to nothing about him and his lack of patience for the galas and events she has to attend for the sake of the Alliance’s image isn’t helpful. He used to do this sort of thing, too, back when he was credited for his efforts in the First Contact War, and he’d sworn never to get involved with military politicking again. He really should’ve thought about that before he decided to get attached to the most famous human soldier in the galaxy.

He doesn’t regret it, though, or so he keeps telling her. She’d accepted his help, but was still suspicious of him. She’d been sure he was trying to get something from her, whether it’s connections, attention, or even sex. She’s well accustomed to being used by the Alliance and knows how the higher-ups work. It was always the older men who called her ‘sweet ass’ or kept their hand on her thigh for far too long. She’s taller and wider than most of these creeps, but they still have the nerve to try her. It’s a wonder she hasn’t broken a general’s jaw by now, they’re the worst ones.

Anderson never asked her for anything but her time and effort. He was convinced that she had some kind of untapped potential that was being wasted on the trials of being a celebrity. It’s true that she’d been on very few official military assignments since the universe fell in love with her heroic exploits and incidental good looks, but Lo hadn’t minded much. It was something to do, even if it was exhausting, what with all the talk shows and special appearances. It kept her busy.

Anderson insisted that that wasn’t good enough. He trained her hard, day and night, bringing him with her on missions and having her actually be a soldier instead of a symbol. It was grueling work, but again, it was distracting. Lo can do distracting. She could handle it.

That is, until Anderson got it in his head that she could be an N7 operative. _That_ was when she started to question his sanity. She’d assumed he was joking, but he was far from it. He put her through drills and recruited Asari to assess her biotic abilities. When she’d told him she wasn’t certain what her biotic class was and just chose ‘Adept’ at random, he gaped at her. That was when it got _really_ difficult.

The man really knew very little about biotics. He worked with few of them and seemed to have almost as many misconceptions of their abilities as non-biotic civilians. They’d argue constantly over what was _technically_ possible and what was _physically_ possible. Their conversations started to comprise mostly of ‘Shepard, do this’ and then ‘no, sir, I can’t do that’ at regular intervals. He’d push her into going past her limits and, regardless of her objections, she was almost always successful. This frustrated her to no end. The day he was convinced that she’d be able to do a biotic Charge if she tried hard enough, she almost fell over from shock.

“I can’t _do_ that! Sir!” she added hastily, but with no less agitation.

“Yes, you can. Work with Bita and show me what you’ve got in a week,” he said with a finality that muted all her remaining protests. It was her stubbornness that convinced her to really train that week, to actually try and learn to Charge so she can fail and he can get it through his head that she has _limits_. The next time they met, she showed up, tired but ready to prove him wrong.

She Charged a distance of seven yards before she panicked and hit the ground painfully. She had bruises everywhere and a broken arm, but it was Anderson’s cry of triumph that hurt the most.

After that, she complained a little less and listened more. When she’d been ready to undergo the N7 training, she’d promised him that she wouldn’t even get to N3. He’d been less convinced but they made a bet of it. _If_ she gets all the way to N7 and passes, she’d buy him the most expensive drink he can think of. _When_ she fails at any of the steps including 7, he’d drop this N7 thing forever and never bring it up again.

When she got to N3, she was mildly surprised. When she passed N5, she was worried. When she reached and passed N7, she was rightly furious. Despite her disapproval, she was promoted to commander and was an official N7 operative, a feat only few in the military could achieve. She achieved a substantial amount of success so early in her military career and she couldn’t be more annoyed.

Without her noticing, David Anderson bullied her into becoming a competent Alliance soldier. This only made her more popular, to his dismay, but the point stands. He’d been right and she grew to be less upset about it. She was proud, even, when the dust settled and she got to consider her accomplishments. She had to buy Anderson a fifty thousand credit bottle of scotch, but she could afford it. Plus, she felt like she owed him for sticking around despite her whining. It was a small price compared to the time he’d spent on her, raising her up and finally earning her trust.

“Seriously, this is super gross,” Lo says around a piece of cupcake. “I’m only eating it to be polite.”

“Really? Is that why you’ve destroyed two-thirds of it in less than three minutes?” Anderson asks idly, gesturing to the scattered crumbs on the table.

“Yes.” She popped the last bite into her mouth and licked her lips. “You know I need the calories. We biotics can’t be picky.”

“Sure. Now that you’re done stuffing your face, I had another thing to talk about.” He tells her about his new assignment, the Normandy, and all the drama surrounding it. A Turian crew on board, the human captain of the vessel getting testy, tempers rising. Lo can’t believe the situation got so bad. Humanity’s relationship with the Turians has never been all that great, but she’d have expected Alliance officers to be less antagonistic.

“And now the ship is mine,” Anderson finishes, smiling a little as he leans on the bar table. “I have to report there in two days for a shakedown run.”

“No shit?” Lo says, grinning. “That’s great! You’ve always wanted your own ship.”

“It only took a few decades.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

“Congratulations. You all set?”

“Not just yet. I haven’t picked an executive officer.” He looks right at her, resting his elbows on the table and crooking a finger under his chin. “I’ve got a couple people in mind, but I haven’t made my decision.”

Lo says nothing, only looks back at him with the thrum of excitement building in her chest. His smile widens and he drops his hand.

“Commander Shepard,” he says in his Captain Voice. “How would you like to be my XO?” Lo’s face widens with her grin.

“Yes, sir, I can do that.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i really don't like how i ended this but again i rushed it. thanks so much for getting through this. leave some kudos or a comment if you like! thanks!


End file.
